"I'd start a revolution... if I could get up in the morning..." ~Aimee Allen

The servos quietly whirred as the door opened. I didn't turn around. I was too busy, furiously jabbing away at my datapad.
"What are you up to?" Bioware asked, coming up behind me. He placed his hands on my shoulders and started a gentle massage.
I shrugged him off. "Just rewriting Mass Effect 2 and 3 so it all makes sense, has no more questionable plot holes and senseless motivations and inconsistency and forgotten storylines and do a better job with this DLC business you keep making me buy when you damn well know it should have been part of the story in the first place."
"I didn't *make* you buy anything and who are you to tell me how to write *my* story?"
I shrugged again. "I do whut I want," I replied, childishly.
"Look, I tolerated you rewriting Dragon Age II but come on! Were Mass Effect 2 and 3 really that bad?"
I sighed. I stopped typing. I stood up and turned around to face him. He was sullen, his hands tucked in his pockets, his "Artistic Integrity" t-shirt slightly rumpled. He looked for all the world like a little boy very much in need of a hug. I admit it. I'm a sucker for that look. I sighed again and stepped closer, placing a hand on his cheek. "No," I said softly, feeling his tension ease, "I know what you were trying to do and there were so many things that I loved about them -- even what you tried to do with the ending ... but ...you know..."
He nodded, resting his face in my hand, "I know. But... how many times do I have to say I'm sorry?"
I removed my hand and kissed him softly in its place. "As many times as it takes for you to get it right."
He looked at me, trying to gauge something that I couldn't figure out. Then he took me by the hand and led me to my computer. "I think this might be it."

***

I get to have Team Wrash back!

I watched Shepard step into the apartment and saw his face appear on the screen. That voice. Anderson's voice. I knew it so well. The apartment was hers? For keeps? And she could buy stuff to redecorate? I gave a slight nod of approval. "All right. I'll bite," I said and began to explore the apartment as per the mission orders. A Biography, Anderson? Who wants to listen to your biography, I thought as I clicked the button and listened intently and ran around the apartment looking for more, desperate to hear Shepard's beloved mentors voice and hear him say all the extra things he didn't get to say before.
Barely five minutes in and bittersweet tears were already threatening. But I couldn't let Bioware see that. I couldn't let him win *that* easily. So I finished my exploration and headed off to meet Joker for authentic French sushi.
What? We're under attack! Can't Shepard relax for just one minute? Who are these guys and why are they dressed like Cerberus? Is this a Rogue FactionTM?
I deftly maneuvered Shepard through the evil minions and met up with her beloved Liara. Oh that was an amusing reunion, I thought, but I wondered what Garrus did... Quickly, I switched over to my other Shepard and ran through to check, muttering about how I wasn't allowed to have alien threesomes like I wanted to.
Shepard made it safely back to her swanky new apartment and then all her friends showed up to make wisecracks before planning the next assault. Choose squadmates? Oh dear how can I choose just one? "Dammit, Bioware," I mumbled, "Could you not give Shepard a nicer dress to wear?"
I didn't realize I'd said that aloud but he responded with something about an inability to fashion. I ignored him and moved on, mingling with old acquaintances and feigning shock at the thickening plot. Then back Shepard went to the apartment for more debriefing and screenshots and more decisions on who to take with her on the next -- wait, what? You mean everyone's coming? Team Mako! Team Hammerhead! Oh you guys are the best! I thought, as I listened giddily to Shepard's friends and their infight banter and learned about the Citadel's deep, dark archived secrets. And then the shocking twist - is that you, M. Night Shaymalan? Oh no, I have to choose squadmates again and make everyone else sad? It's okay guys, I promise to play again and again until I've achieved every possible combination.
By now I was actively flailing over EDI and toothbrushes and the Normandy and then the climactic battle was all over and I could head back to the apartment and plan a party and shop and see all my friends and gamble and race varren and -- OMG is that Blasto???

***

When I finally could breathe again, I looked up to find Bioware watching me intently, desperately. "Do you forgive me now..?"
I gave him a big grin and threw my arms around his neck. "It wasn't perfect," I said, "And, even though these war assets still don't matter ... it was ... good enough."
"Happy anniversary," he whispered.
I smiled back and kissed him softly. "Now just don't fuck up Dragon Age III and Mass Effect 4."

WHAT IS THIS?

This is my mindspill. Mostly about comics, books, video games, movies of the science fiction and fantasy leanings. Sometimes recipes and parenting stuff will sneak in, along with a real world rant or two.